


Windstorm (Terrabent)

by cosmicconundrum



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Airships, Alternate Universe, M/M, Pirate England (Hetalia), Sky Pirates, Steampunk, vaguely inspired by Castle in the Sky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 14:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicconundrum/pseuds/cosmicconundrum
Summary: In a world where the population is divided between the lucky few who live on floating sky-islands and the vast majority who live in poverty on the earth below, airships are everything. Technology is still stuck in the steam age, but it is more than enough for powering the flying cities and machinery utilized by the human population. Of course, other problems run rampant, too, and the world grows ever closer to war.Alfred is a young man who wishes only to see the glory of the great airborne cities, something he should have been denied considering his humble background.Amongst all the players of the complicated game of tensions and politics arises a new group: the sky pirates.





	Windstorm (Terrabent)

The sound of clinking glasses, background chatter, and faint waltz music filled the great chamber. Several crystal chandeliers lit the hall so brightly there were few shadows to be found. Women and men in elegant dresses and suits of all shapes and sizes socialized, laughed, and danced. The walls of the hall were giant glass panels; the night sky beyond the party was as dark and serene as ever. And amongst all the dancing aristocrats, two teens stood, looking very much out of place.

“Alfred, this is so cool!” One of them whispered as he gazed up and around him in awe.

“I know, right?” Alfred whispered back, as he joined his twin in looking around.

It was needless to say that neither boy had ever seen a party as fancy as the likes of this one. Their clothes told the same story. They wore dirty and worn clothes of varying shades of tan and brown. Around them, the adults, who were clad in much finer, brighter clothes, gave them looks, but chose to ignore them.

“I’m surprised no one’s decided to call security on us yet,” Matthew said.

Another moment passed and the teens kept standing. Despite the fact that they were smack in the middle of the marble floor, most of the people simply danced around them and continued to pay them no mind.

“Man, I wish we were rich aristocratic kids. Then we could have awesome balls like this all the time, too! And dress in cooler-looking clothes. Man, I hate my shoes,” Alfred commented. Matthew shot him a gaze that could only be described as ‘shut up, we’re going to get kicked out and possibly arrested.’

After all, they weren’t technically supposed to be in the ballroom chamber of an airship. That was kind of the type of thing only rich people did. And they were far from rich.

“You know, I didn’t think it would be this easy to sneak in,” Alfred added after another moment of silence spent gazing at the excessively decorated walls.

Matthew gazed at his twin with equal suppressed excitement. Who knew the rich had it this easy? Partying and dancing all night, all the time. He vowed one day to get more money, so that he could share it with his brother and have awesome dance parties as well. A young man could dream, couldn’t he?

“Hello, young gentlemen,” a voice purred from behind the boys. They both jumped.

Alfred shook slightly as he cranked his neck around to look at whoever had spoken to them.

“Y-yes, sir?”

The voice belonged to a man, with long, flowing blond hair, light blue eyes, and an easygoing smirk. He couldn’t have been more than maybe twenty-something. Compared to the other men in the room, though, he was probably one of the youngest. He also happened to be dressed in a victorian coat of sorts, primarily made out of a navy blue fabric. Both Alfred and Matthew spent a bit too much time pondering over just how rich this guy must be. How could he possibly have been able to afford such a pristine silk cravat? What about those rings adorning his fingers? And that red rose clipped in his breast pocket… how did he even manage to find one? And that accent… neither of the twins could quite place their finger on it.

“I am flattered that you are admiring my wonderful body and all, but it will probably be the best if we chat instead of stare at one another. The others will give us weird looks,” The mysterious man said, smiling gently.

“O-oh,” Matthew stammered, “Well, um,”

“My name is Francis,” the man, er, Francis, said, and offered a hand for them to shake.

Matthew, being in closer proximity to Francis, hesitantly took his hand and shook it. Alfred followed suit.

“I’m Alfred, and this is my brother Matthew,” he said as he turned up his friendly charm to the highest.

“It is nice to meet you,” Francis said as he admired the two. Both were quite obviously not as wealthy as he, Francis mused. But they were still fairly handsome! The two looked almost identical, with tan skin, golden blond hair, and strong jawlines. Both also wore glasses. However, the bolder one, Alfred, had blue eyes, while the more shy one had light purple ones. 

Francis made up for his pausing by continuing, “Now, how old are you?”

“I’m nineteen,” Alfred said, then gestured at Matthew and added, “And so is he.”

“You are quite young, then?” Francis observed, and quirked a delicate-looking eyebrow.

“I guess.”

A moment of silence passed. The piece of music playing in the background ended, and a new one began.

“Pardon my intruding question, but are you really supposed to be here?” Francis asked.

_ Oh dear. This was it, _ Alfred thought. They were busted. Besides him, Matthew was visibly shaking from fear. They were so, actually going to get arrested this time. He knew he shouldn’t have sneaked onto the airship! Now he wanted to curse his own stupid hopefulness and curiosity.

“I’m sorry. Sir. We’re, uh, we’re going to g--” Alfred began, but was interrupted by Francis.

“You are not required to leave at all!” Francis exclaimed and spread his arms wide to gesture at the whole room before adding, “You are quite welcome to stay here and enjoy the music as long as you like… provided you don’t cause any trouble, anyway.”

Both Alfred and Matthew gulped at Francis’s smug look. Would they be thrown out by security? Possibly. Arrested? Yeah.

“Really?” Matthew said, but his voice was still the whisper it always was.

“Of course. It’ll be my pleasure to host you,”

Alfred gaped, wide-eyed, for a moment. Host? Was Francis… wait, Francis?  _ Oh no. _

“No way,” Alfred whispered.

Francis simply smiled once more, stepped back, took a bow, turned around, and walked away. His coattails floated behind him. Alfred and Matthew stared at the retreating man in shock. Their jaws hung open almost comically. It was a full minute before either of them even moved.

“Did we just…” Alfred said.

“I think we did,” Matthew breathed out.

“Dude.”

“I know.”

The man whom they’ve just found out to be Francis Bonnefoy, one of the wealthiest people in all of the world, had just invited them to stay on the  _ Promenade _ , his airship. And hadn’t kicked them out. Around the young adults, older adults continued to twirl around in pairs, their dresses flowing, their jewelry shining. Matthew thought he was going to faint from the sheer significance of what had just happened.

“So,” Alfred began.

“So,” Matthew agreed.

“Do you want to maybe walk around and explore the airship a bit, or continue standing here?”

“Let’s go explore the ship,” Matthew agreed.

Alfred clamped a hand onto his brother’s wrist, then pulled him through the dancing crowd. He winced whenever he accidentally brushed against someone else. He would whisper, “Sorry!” before speedwalking away to avoid that person’s disapproving glare, only to bump into someone else. After many close calls with stepping on someone’s dress, Alfred had managed to drag Matthew to the to the end of the great ballroom, where a wall greeted then. In the center of the wall was a set of doors that stretched all the way to the ceiling some thirty or more feet above.  _ Sheesh, _ Alfred thought, _ I wonder what it takes to open those doors. _

Alfred breathed out slowly and adjusted his glasses. The room was just so amazing. He had been here for almost ten minutes, and he still couldn’t think of any words to describe it. Maybe except ‘perfect’. He sighed.

Matthew tugged on his arm, and Alfred obeyed the unspoken suggestion. They maneuvered to the edge of the room, right where the wall and glass panels intersected in the corner. There, the two teens stared at the night sky beyond. Alfred pressed his face and palms against the glass to get a better view. There were the clouds he had always seen ever since he was a young child. He stood besides his brother as they gazed in wonder at the beauty of the sky. The clouds drifted in huge towers all around the airship. Not a single flying city could be seen. When Alfred looked up, he could see the moon. He sighed again.

“Wait, what’s that?” Matthew said.

“What’s what?” Alfred asked.

“That thing. Right there. It’s coming out of that cloud on the left,” Matthew continued, and vaguely pointed in that general direction.

Alfred followed Matthew’s finger, and spotted what Matthew was referring to. It was a small, brown airship, in the classic victorian fashion, with a gas-filled balloon part above and a small gondolier-like part underneath. And then, as it rapidly got closer to the airship  _ Promenade _ , Alfred realized something else. Its tail fin had an image of a skull and crossed wings.

“Shit,” Both Alfred and Matthew said at the exact same time.

Suddenly, an alarm sounded. The noise echoed through the grand ballroom, and every person immediately froze. 

“Attention all passengers: Please proceed to the inner cabins of the airship. We are under attack by pirates,” The wavering voice of what was probably the captain announced.

Alfred watched all of this happen. He watched as the people began to scream and panic and run around. He continued watching as the pirate ship got closer and closer to the Promenade. He still kept watching, frozen in fear, when he saw the rapidly approaching ship launch out several smaller ships -- gliders, he corrected himself -- which veered off to the front of the rounded ballroom. The wings on the gliders’ sides buzzed like that of a fly’s.

And there was a crash as all three of the gliders crashed through the giant glass walls. Glass shards flew everywhere, reflecting the light from the ballroom in a giant glittery shower.

Mass hysteria set in. People began flooding towards to great doors at the end of the hall, away from the intruding gliders and the pirates in them, and they tripped over each other and knocked over tables as they ran. Everywhere, the sounds of breaking glass and things falling over could be heard. The chaos was overwhelming.

“Alfred, we’ve got to go!” Matthew said urgently as he yanked on his brother’s arm.

Alfred stopped standing there as the shock of what had just happened finally sunk in. He immediately whipped around and began pushing through the people to try and get out of the ballroom. Still, the others ran past him, shoving one another to get closer to the exits.

“Secure the doors!” A voice shouted from the other end of the room, and Alfred turned.

It was one of the air pirates. The man had short blond hair, and wore a long, red coat, and a leather tricorn hat with the plumage of some unfortunate bird falling down over his shoulder. He was standing on his glider, a small, mobile, dragonfly-shaped device, and carrying a pistol in one hand.

Alfred didn’t realize he had been staring until the man scanned the room and made eye contact with him. He froze again. Those eyes…

“Alfred!” Matthew shrieked, “What are you doing?”

Alfred shook himself out of his moment and continued moving with his brother amongst the throngs of people all trying to shove themselves through the grand doors. Someone pushed against him, and Alfred was shoved to the side. His brother’s grip was gone from his hand. Alfred turned in circles, trying to find his brother.

“Matthew!” He yelled, “Matthew!”

He was nowhere in sight.

A shot resounded through the ballroom, and everyone immediately fell to the floor. All the women and men that had been dancing so elegantly one minute were now cowering on the floor in fear of the people that now had control over their living.

“Stop moving!” The same man from earlier called. Alfred again turned around helplessly to see what was going on.

The man made several hand gestures towards the other two pirates and motioned for them to do something. The one on the left, in an equally fashioned glider, was tall, unfortunately very strong-looking, with dark brown hair and a simple shirt. He carried two pistols in each hand. The man nodded to the leader, probably the captain, and immediately ran to the doors. Great. Now the only exit out of the room was blocked. Alfred watched in despair from his position on the ground as the doors were shut, trapping at least a third of the people in the ballroom. And Matthew was nowhere to be seen.

When Alfred looked back, he saw the other pirate, the one on the right, nod to the captain, and pull out two swords. Alfred gaped. The man had longer dark brown hair that went down to his jaw, and was wearing some sort of maroon coat. But he held his swords with an expertise that told Alfred he definitely was not to be messed with, not that Alfred would ever try dueling with someone who was able to hold two swords.

That man stood with his swords held out, readily pointed at anyone who dared try to move, while the captain smirked. He leapt off his glider with the grace of a cat, and calmly walked over to the mass of quivering people.

Alfred realized that he was probably staring, again, and he ducked his head. He could hear those boots clicking on the marble floor, each step echoing through the eerily silent hall. He heard them increasing in volume, and he closed his eyes and hoped that he wouldn’t die. He hoped that Matthew was okay. When he and Matthew had chosen to sneak on board the Promenade, they hadn’t known they would be attacked by sky pirates. And if they had, then they wouldn’t have done such a foolish thing.

The footsteps stopped.

Alfred moved only his eyes, and saw someone standing right in front of him. Well fuck, was all his mind had to say.

Alfred did not dare move. He didn’t even dare to breathe. He just crouched there, head bent, refusing to even look or move a single muscle for fear of getting shot, or something even worse.

He felt a hand touch his shoulder.

“Stand up,” the voice commanded him, and Alfred did as he was told.

He was now eye to eye with the pirate. Alfred spared a glance at the man before him, and was surprised to discover the greenest set of eyes gazing back at him. Alfred stared a moment too long, and he was roughly shoved into someone else -- the pirate with the swords from before.

“Don’t make any sudden movements if you want to live,” The man said gruffly.

Alfred found that a sword was pressed to his throat. He definitely did not dare to make any sudden movements, none at all.

Before him, the pirate captain had turned away, and was scanning the crowd.

“Nothing else unordinary here,” he muttered, and turned back.

Alfred avoided eye contact in the hope that he would be spared whatever awful fate was probably awaiting him.

“Return to the ship,” the captain said to the brown-haired man holding Alfred.

The sword around Alfred’s neck was removed, and he sighed in relief, only to find both swords pointed at the sides of his neck.

“Walk to the gliders,” The man with the swords told him, and he gulped and continued to do as he was told.

Each step he took was agonizingly loud in the silence of the room. When he finally made it to the gliders, he noted that they were much older than they had looked before. In fact, they all looked as if they shouldn’t be functioning at all. They were rusted, metal things, with four great sail-like wings at the sides, and a steam engine in the rear. There was a single spot for a single person to sit. Do I get on? Alfred wondered.

Then, in a sudden flash, he found that his hands had been grabbed, tied together, then tied to the center glider’s seat handle.

“Oh my god,” he couldn’t help but whisper, “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

There was another eerie moment of silence, where Alfred stood, legs bent awkwardly, as his hands remained tied to the glider. The man with the swords stood behind him and continued pointing those things at him. The pirate captain continued to survey the room in the distance. The other pirate, with the guns, was still standing by the closed doors, holding two guns. And everyone else was still huddled to the floor.

Suddenly, the giant doors swung open with such force that the man that had been guarding them earlier had to take a dive in order to avoid being hit.

Francis, of all people, burst through the open doors, along with maybe a dozen armed guards.

“Arthur Kirkland,” he mused.

“Francis Bonnefoy,” the pirate captain responded, sounding just as smug.

The two sized down each other, though no one, not even the armed guards, made a move to do anything.

Alfred found that his mouth was suddenly covered by a strip of cloth tied behind his head.

“Mmph!” He protested.

“Shh,” the man behind him whispered, “Do not say a word, or I will be forced to hurt you.”

Alfred shut up after that.

Beyond them, the two men continued circling one another, like birds fighting over prey. Or something. But still, none of them made a move to shoot.

“Still up to your usual antics, I see,” Francis said.

“And you as well,” the pirate said in return.

“Tell me, what do you spend your days doing, Arthur?”

“More important things than you,” the pirate, whom Alfred noted to be Arthur, snapped, and all smugness fell from his voice.

Silence.

And then five or six gunshots all at once.

Alfred was completely overwhelmed and had absolutely no idea what was going on. He didn’t notice that the man with the two guns had already run over to the glider next to him, nor that the man who had tied his hands had retreated to the glider on the other side of him, and taken off through the empty space where a pristine glass wall should have been, and flown off into the night. The captain had held his gun up, shot several times, then turned around, and in the blink of an eye was sitting in the seat with a tied and gagged Alfred.

The engine of the glider started up, and Alfred tried as best as he could to scream or get out of those ropes.

“Ready, aim!” Francis ordered those guards, and they raised their guns, all aimed at Alfred and the captain.

_ They’re going to shoot,  _ he thought.  _ They’re going to shoot and I’m going to die. _

“Nice seeing you again,” The pirate yelled, and then they were off. They zoomed into the cold night sky. Alfred craned his neck to turn around.

He looked on helplessly at the shrinking airship before him, and barely had the time to see Francis’s guards shooting off round after round at them, but only missing and cracking more of the glass windows.

Alfred was too far into having a mental breakdown to note the concerned voice trying and failing to comfort him. They flew through the cold night sky, through clouds and winds, until they reached the airship that awaited for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in the summer of 2016. Largely inspired by steampunk, as well as several studio ghibli movies, including, but not limited to, Castle in the Sky, Howl's Moving Castle, and Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind.


End file.
